


From an Outside Perspective

by DaniGetYourGun (SharkbaitHooHaHa)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-07-19 02:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkbaitHooHaHa/pseuds/DaniGetYourGun
Summary: Other people can tell that Aziraphale and Crowley love each other, even if they can't. Drabbles told from the perspective of those fortunate or unfortunate enough to get a glimpse of 6,000 years of pining.So far:1. Warlock2. The ducks at St. James3. Ducks part 24. Agent [redacted]





	1. A Little Secret

Brother Francis, during the course of his employment for the Dowlings, always seemed to be on the very cusp of being fired.

Looking back on his childhood, Warlock would wonder how he ever managed to have a job at all. The flowerbeds always seemed to be flooded, the bushes were trimmed to within an inch of their life, and instead of using any sort of pesticide, he instead fawned over whatever caterpillar or rabbit decided to have lunch in the garden.

Despite all this, however, the plants always seemed to survive, somehow. When he was six, he realized that a sort of pattern had emerged. The plants would be near death, when he went to bed at night, but by the time he got up in the morning, they would be looking so lush and green that you couldn't even tell they had ever been sick. Then, every four to five days, the process would repeat itself.

He didn't have any clue as to why this would be happening until he was seven. He woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of shouting coming from the garden. When he rushed to the window to see what all the commotion was about, he saw Nanny Ashtoreth standing in the middle of the yard and screaming at the plants. This went on for several hours, until finally, she seemed to run out of things to say and stalked back inside the house.

The next morning, the plants were thriving again.

Brother Francis seemed very pleased, as Warlock watched them while kicking a ball around. He was close enough to hear as the gardner leaned over to the Nanny and said proudly, "you see my dear? Anytime they start to look unhealthy, I make sure to spend the entire day giving them love and praise, and come morning, they always look beautiful again!"

Warlock was pretty sure that it wasn't 'love and praise' that brought the plants back to life. Strange as it sounded, he was pretty sure that it was Nanny's shouting that had gotten them to straighten up. After all, had he been a plant, he would certainly do his best to look presentable if Nanny screamed at him the way she had at the plants last night.

No, the garden's vivaciousness was definitely Nanny's doing, and Warlock expected her to say as much to Brother Francis.

Instead, Nanny's face softened in a way Warlock had never seen on her before as she smiled at the gardner.

"Yes, Angel," she said, an alarming sort of fondness in her voice. "You've certainly got a knack for this. I should never have doubted your abilities."

Brother Francis positively beamed in response, and for a second, he looked much younger.

It was as the gardner picked up his water can and began to drown the flowers again, that Nanny Ashtoreth caught Warlock watching them.

While Brother Francis's back was turned, she smiled at Warlock conspiritorally and raised one gloved finger to her lips. Warlock grinned back and nodded.

This would stay their secret.


	2. Local Idiots Terrorize Ducks at St. James Park

There was a small group of ducks at St. James park that were far more intelligent than any ducks had any right to be. This tended to happen when certain celestial beings were involved. Plants could feel fear, books could feel love, a Bentley could develope a taste for Queen, and ducks could come to grow tired of a black and white duo refusing to acknowledge their feelings for each other.

Most of the time it was, at least, tolerable. When the pair showed up at the park together, the ducks could just enjoy the bread tossed their way and turn their backs to ignore the adoring glances and soft looks they gave one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

The overwhelming feeling of longing that seemed to radiate off the pair was a bit harder to ignore.

What was worse, though, was when they each came to the park alone. Then, without the other to distract their attention, the ducks would have to suffer the unfortunate torment of being talked at for hours on end.

Mr. Black would pace back and forth in front of the pond, chucking hunks of bread with far more force than the ducks thought necessary, and gripe about ‘that insufferable angel’ and how much he tired of him. The ducks weren’t fooled.

Mr. White, on the other hand, would sit straight on the bench, his hands never seeming to still, while he fretted in run-on sentences about 'that devious demon’ and his evil ways. The ducks weren’t impressed.

Which is why, on one charmingy sunny afternoon, the ducks had decided they’d had enough.

It was embarrassingly easy. They just had to wait until the two finished their conversation, and then, as they moved to walk away from the bench, wind around Mr. Black’s legs causing him to trip. The man always looked one wrong step from falling flat on his face, anyway, so really they didn’t even have to get very close.

As expected, with a surprised little 'oh,’ Mr. White reached out and caught Mr. Black in his arms.

The two stayed that way for s but, simply staring into each other’s eyes (why were people so _weird?_ ) before they straightened with a nervous chuckle.

Mr. Black, overdramatic as he was, made a comment about Mr. White saving his life and asked if he could treat him to lunch in thanks. Mr. White was only too happy to agree, and the two walked off, standing much closer to one another than before while the ducks congratulated themselves on a job well done.

Until Mr. Black returned the very next day, hurled an entire load of bread into the pond and cried out in despair “'COOL?!’ HE SAID 'I LOVE YOU’ AND I SAID 'COOL?!’” before collapsing face first into the water as if he could simply wash his mistakes away.

The ducks quacked unhappily.


	3. Ducks! They're what you practice proposals on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People on Tumblr wanted a follow up to the duck bit, so here it is! :)

It wasn’t everyday you walked into St. James’ park to find a man down on one knee, ring box in hand, declaring his undying love to a duck, but it seemed today was a day of absurdities, because that was exactly what was happening.

The duck, like so many of its species, had murder in its eyes as it started down the man dressed in tartan and cream before it.

“Anyway, what I guess I’m trying to say is– what I’m trying to ask, really– that is, if you would, perhaps, want to– we don’t– ow!”

Mr. White flinched as the duck angrily pecked at his hand. “Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it. Crowley, will you marry me?”

_Quack_.

“Oh, is it too much?”

_Quack_!

“What if I’ve misjudged things? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

The duck had never tried rolling its eyes before, but it figured now was as good a time as any.

“Maybe I should go through it again. From the top.”

_Quack quack quack_!

Today was going to be a long day.

An hour and a half later, Mr. White finally left, and the duck was finally free to go about its very important duck business in peace.

Or, at least, that’s how it _should_ have been. Unfortunately, a rather familiar pair of snakeskin shoes (were they shoes?) had appeared in the duck’s line of vision and– oh. _Oh no_.

“Angel,” Mr. Black got down awkwardly on one knee. “I know this is– ow! Stop! Hey, _what the fuck_?! Ow! _Ow_! No! No, no, no, damn you! Give that back! No, no! Stay away!”

It wasn’t everyday you walked into St. James’ park to find a man, who was more limb than substance, flailing around while being chased by a duck holding an engagement ring in its bill, but it seemed today was a day of absurdities.


	4. Snark (Snake Park)

As a spy, Agent [redacted] of the British Bureau of [redacted] had seen some, for lack of a more elegant word, shit. Which is why when the sunglasses wearing redhead in St. James’ Park turned into a massive snake in broad daylight, he didn’t bat an eye. Well, almost didn’t. He had read the reports on the mass hallucination event of just a few weeks prior, he could even swear that he himself saw the M25 lit aflame, so what was this if not a lingering after effect of whatever had happened on that day?

Besides, nobody else seemed to notice the transformation, even the man’s companion, a man dressed head to toe in cream and tartan, seemed remarkably unfazed, though perhaps a little embarrassed, at the turn of events.

So, Agent [redacted] merely called animal control for the larger than average serpent that had slithered into the bushes and continued on with his day as though nothing out if the ordinary had happened.

—

When the same thing happened not even a week later, Agent [redacted] found himself feeling a little more concerned. This was partially due to the fact that the man’s companion no longer seemed unfazed, and was in fact looking quite cross as he stood up to yell at the snake that was moving through the grass with surprising speed.

“Crowley!” the companion shouted. “Crowley, get back here at once! This is no way to behave!” His words seemed to fall on deaf snake-ears, however, as the creature continued its escape.

The companion was now making more of a scene then the snake-man had, and upon realizing this, picked up his coat with a huff and stormed out of the park.

—

The scene repeated itself three days later, though this time the companion seemed prepared and managed to haul the snake’s middle section up in his arms, effectively preventing him from getting away.

Several people stopped and stared and Agent [redacted] watched with a practiced mask of indifference as the man wrestled with the snake, which had managed to wrap itself around the leg of the bench to prevent his companion from carrying him away.

“Crowley!” the companion snapped as he tried to disentangle the snake from the bench. “You can’t turn into a snake everytime you tell me you love me! You–oh!”

The companion fell back onto the grass as the snake managed to escape and made its way across the park and out of sight.

“You haven’t even given me a chance to respond, you fffff- fool!”

The companion groaned aloud and mumbled an apology to the onlookers as he once again left the park looking like he wanted to strangle a certain reptile.

—

Two days later, when the incident happened _yet again_ , the companion, looking far more exhausted than Agent [redacted] had ever seen anyone look, made no move to stop the departure of the snake and simply called “I love you, too!” after the retreating reptile.

—

The next day, Agent [redacted]’s world finally returned to normal, or to some semblance of, when the two men showed up again and managed to pass their time without anyone turning into any sort of animal.

In fact, Agent [redacted] smiled to himself as he watched them share a kiss, and made sure to note in his report that the two seemed to have worked things out.

Needless to say, the head office was very confused.


End file.
